Rain in London
by AJ and Sebastian Goin
Summary: Emily stares out the window in her flat, lost in thought


AN: For those of you who know me as an author who is a firm believer of Happily Ever After in my stories, you may want to know before you start this that this is not a HEA story. I'm not really in a good headspace today and instead of doing something self-destructive like punching a wall, I'm writing this angsty thing. And since this is me trapped in my own self, no Sebby.

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. If I did I would distract myself with Derek Morgan and be feeling much better.

Spoilers: Through 8x01

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It was Friday night and Emily Prentiss was doing exactly what she did most nights when she wasn't working a case. She was curled up in the window seat of the living room in her flat, a hot cup of tea wrapped in her hands. Correction: a cold cup of tea. She must have been there a while, watching the rain stream down over the glass, distorting her view of London.

Not that she minded. The view had long since lost its appeal. The longer she was in London, the more she missed Virginia. She thought she had been so sure of it when she'd left. It really hadn't felt like home to her anymore.

She had been so relieved to be going home after having been on the run, but home is exactly what it hadn't been anymore. The BAU was still the same. And her coworkers had welcomed her back with open arms. Even Spencer had been back to his usual self after recovering from his initial anger.

No, her job certainly hadn't been what had made her feel empty inside. That was her own fault. Her time in hiding had changed her. Although no one had thought it remotely possible, she had become even more introverted, more private. She had opened up more about things with her team, sure. But she was keeping her heart more guarded than ever.

And that was how she became homeless. She hadn't come back as the same woman she had left, and he couldn't take it. He hadn't said the words. But things hadn't been the same.

He was the biggest part of her decision to go into hiding. She was trying to protect him. Instead, she had hurt him. He had known things weren't right too. The night she snuck out of his bed and left had been the last time they had really spoken outside of the confines of work. He never called. Never tried to talk to her about it. He just knew.

No one on the team had a clue. They had kept it that way on purpose. And they were so used to pretending that no one had sensed the change.

JJ's wedding had been the first time they had touched in months. Everyone was dancing with everyone. They couldn't well refuse to be partnered without drawing attention, and that was something neither of them wanted. So they'd danced. And talked. And laughed.

And somewhere, somehow over the course of their dances that evening, he'd figured it out. She could feel the change in his touch when it hit him. He knew she was going to leave again. And yet, he'd said nothing. Not even when he'd walked her to her car that evening.

That was what had solidified decision in her mind. He knew she was going to leave and didn't care to say anything. And since she'd been gone, he'd been the only member of the team that hadn't contacted her. While she regularly Skyped, called, texted, emailed, and wrote letters to the other members of the team, she'd had no interaction with him.

She had respected his decision to keep his distance and hadn't reached out to him. She had written a single letter, but it still sat in her sock drawer, unsent. He deserved a clean break.

But for her, the break was far from clean. When she closed her eyes she could still see the look on his face when she'd stepped through the door of the conference room. She'd been listening from the hall. Everyone else had said something when Hotch had told them. Everyone but him. The look on his face told her why. He didn't trust himself to speak without them knowing. Even when she'd moved from Garcia and Spencer to Morgan before him, he'd remained silent.

In fact, the first words he'd spoken directly to her were when he'd taken her picture off the wall. After that one sentence, he hadn't addressed her again, even as he offered to let her stay "in his guestroom" to the team after the dinner they had shared. The drive to Little Creek had been made in silence as well. They hadn't actually spoken until they were in bed together.

Emily shook her head against the memory. That was one conversation she couldn't bear to think about. It was far too painful to recall the first, last, and only time she had exchanged the words "I love you" with him.

With a heavy sigh she forced herself to unfold her legs and stand. She moved to leave her mug in the sink before crossing to her bedroom. She paused to scratch Sergio's head before climbing into bed. As she lay curled up beneath the warm comforter, she closed her eyes. Tonight when she found sleep, she'd share her dreams with him. It would be painful to wake in the morning. But, for a few hours, David Rossi would once again be hers.


End file.
